


Tormund Giantsbane, Sex Therapist

by Jemster



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Bar Hopping, Competition, F/M, Humor, Reserve the Right to Add Tags in the Future
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-09
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2018-08-13 23:44:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7990663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jemster/pseuds/Jemster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tormund Giantsbane, licensed sex therapist,  is a counselor at one of the major hospitals in Chicago, currently working as general counselor.  A new appointment has opened up in their Sex Therapy department and Tormund must compete with a certain Brienne Tarth, MA, already in the department and looking to advance, for the job. Modern AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tormund

**Author's Note:**

> Modern AUs are great if done right. Hopefully I accomplished that, or at least got close. Close-ish?:-)
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!i

Tormund opened the door to his office, the stench of stuffy books and old ink not doing much to elevate his already dour mood. If anything, it made it worse. There was a time he used to love to pour over page after page of anything from school assignments to dime novels from the 50s. Nowadays, however, he only read because it was required for papers and reports. If he had his druthers, he would be in sessions with clients and then following up with them almost all of the time. Talking to people about their issues and solving their problems, coming up with solutions they hadn’t thought of jazzed Tormund’s mind. These very solutions were his bread and butter. Slogging through paragraph after paragraph of ancient case studies just didn’t make his cock jump in his tighty whities as of late.

Tormund sat back in his chair and ran a hand over his full red beard and through his thick wavy hair. He straightened his dark blue jacket and striped tie as he looked over his caseload for the day. As one of the newest counselors in the Psychiatric Department at one of the largest hospitals in Chicago, Tormund was given the weird ones, the cases no other therapist wanted. He didn’t mind. Come to think of it, he preferred the challenging ones. Tormund paused and shook his head. Oh, who was he kidding? He hated them. He only wished to get through them, pay his dues, and get on to something more interesting. 

He heard a loud rapt upon the door, breaking him out of the grip of his melancholy. Grateful, he sat up straighter in the high backed brown leather chair he had come to loathe as he cleared his throat.

“Come in!” He bellowed, his deep booming voice carrying out into the halls, around the corner, and as far as the nurse’s station. If Tormund laughed, everyone in the building knew his location. 

The heavy wooden door creaked open and Mance Randar, head of the department, walked in, his patent leather shoes making a scuffing sound on the newly polished floor. Mance was wearing one of those three piece suits whose time had come and gone...a long, LONG time ago. It was bad enough it was made of a thick corduroy but the color looked like dark caramel had been burnt and smeared all over the fabric. Tormund reminded himself never to go shopping with the man.

Mance didn’t bother looking at Tormund as his attention was drawn to the painting of the bear on the wall behind his most recent employ as he entered the room. Mance grimaced as he regarded Tormund’s choice of art, his brows drawing close enough together they almost touched, stopping just short of the desk. Tormund stood up, his frame straightening. He could feel as well as hear a couple of his vertebrae shift back into place. He needed to get back to the chiropractor as soon as possible. 

“Interesting choice of subject.” Mance scoffed as he slowly lowered his weight onto the armchair, the wood creaking under the sheer weight. If Mance had exercised at all in the past few years the program he was using really needed to change. 

Tormund sat back down. “It was a gift from my late wife. She was a painter and specialized in forests and all the creatures who dwelled in them. She loved them all but bears were a particular favorite. Their strength, their resilience, and the fact they took no shit from the rest of the forest inhabitants. Maybe that’s why she married me.” Tormund laughed.

Mance’s expression didn’t change, the humorless bastard. “Maybe it’s because both of you have about the same amount of hair.”

Tormund huffed, his eyes betraying his mirth. “No, as much as my wife liked my fur she adored her bears. Dragged me to the zoo just to see them. Would spend hours…”

“Mr. Giantsbane, “Mance cut him off, scooting the chair closer to the desk. Tormund mimicked his movements and sank back into the over-sized chair. “There is a space in the sexual therapy department opening soon and I wanted to make you aware of it before the job was posted. We’re only hiring internal candidates and since I know the focus of your schooling was in that very area and I believe you’d make a good candidate. You’ve been a good therapist and your clients have nothing but high praise for you. I hope you will consider applying.”

Tormund considered, drumming his fingers absently along the desk’s smooth surface. “Yes, I think I might go for it. I appreciate the information, Doctor.” 

Mance nodded and stood up, one of his pants scrunching up to about mid-leg. Mance pushed it back down with his other foot. Tormund followed suit and stood but his pants decided, thankfully, to stay where they were. He sure wasn’t going to spend any time outside of work with Mance, and he really had no clue why people followed him like they did, but he sure appreciated the heads up. The job sounded like the perfect fit.

His boss turned to leave and then spun around. “Oh, and one other thing before I go. I know that Ms. Brienne Tarth who’s a resident already in the department has also found out about the job. How she was clued in I have no idea. Probably her obtrusive little assistant Podrick told her about it, and more than likely he got in information from one of the nurses. I swear that boy has most of the nurses at the hospital firmly in his pocket. What his secret is I have no idea, but it can’t be honorable.” 

Tormund nodded and walked around the decrepit hunk of wood he called a desk. He extended his hand toward his boss who considered it and finally took it, giving it two sharp shakes and releasing it. Reaching into his pocket, Mance removed a piece of soft white cloth and erased Tormund’s contact from his hand. 

“Be careful of Ms. Tarth,” Mance warned. “She’s shrewd, competitive, and will as soon cut you as kiss you.” 

Mance twisted his frame back to the door around and shuffled to it, Tormund on his heels to see him out. Mance reached down, pressed the lever down and opened it, the cylinders of the lock sliding against one another until it aligned in the open position. Mance pulled and groaned with effort as the door and frame detached from one another. When Mance pulled it open enough to get through he stopped just as he lifted one foot. 

He mumbled something to someone Tormund couldn’t see given Mance’s girth and resumed his walking. As Mance passed the individual that had impeded his path, Tormund finally got a good look at them. 

Tormund’s mouth went slack and his pupils dilated at the sight of the woman, nothing but legs and the bluest eyes he had ever seen. His pulse quickened and his hands became clammy. He slid his hands along the seams of his pants to soak up the sweat. A sultry smile playing along her lips she extended a long hand. “Mr. Giantsbane I presume. I’m Ms. Tarth, a pleasure to meet you. I understand we have something in common. I’m here to talk to you about it. May I come in?” 

Tormund knew right there and then he was in big, big trouble.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne confronts the man who wants the job she thinks should be hers. Who she finds, however, is not what she expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this has taken so long to post another part for this fic. Thanks to Team Tormund for the reminder and the encouragement. I hope you like it!

As Brienne held out her hand she took stock of the man in front of her. Shorter than her by a few inches he didn’t look like the typical therapist she worked with, but more like the stereotypical absent-minded professor with his wild red hair and matching unkempt beard. Her eyes traveled the length of him and when she met his green eyes she felt an electric shock radiate through her chest and down her body, wrapping around her upper legs and making her skin pimple. 

She didn’t wait for him to respond to her gesture and slid past him into the office, her hips swaying to an unknown beat as she brushed past. She heard him suck in his breath at the contact and smiled to herself. Brienne remembered the things she and her therapist had gone over in their last session: make eye contact, act confident even if she didn’t feel confident, and above all else do not turn and leave even if her brain told her to run. 

A light spicy scent filled the room, momentarily occupying her thoughts as she tried to locate the source. Her focus was interrupted as the occupier of this office strolled in front of her and stopped just a couple feet in front of her. 

“And what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, Ms.Tarth?” He had a thick accent that she could not place. Admittedly, Brienne hadn’t been many places outside of the US so accents were not her forte. Still, it intrigued her and she found herself wanting to know more. About the accent, she told herself, not the man 

She cleared her throat and pushed her shoulders back. “My assistant tells me that you are considering applying for the position that is opening up in the Sex Therapy Department here at the hospital.”

Tormund nodded. “I’m thinking about it, haven’t made my decision yet.” 

She looked at him incredulously. “But I just heard you…”

“Heard me what?” His eyes narrowed. “Wait, were you listening in on my conversation?” He looked beyond her to the door she had just come through. "Exactly how close were you to that door?”

She faltered a bit. “Well, it’s not like I could help it. You’re not exactly the quietest person in this hospital.” she stammered.

He threw his head back and laughed, “You’re right about that. Personally, I think I’d suck at being a librarian, although I did consider it once when I was eight.” He held up a finger, “Once.”

She smiled, her nose crinkling at the thought of him behind a circulation desk, the patrons turning around and shushing him instead. Then him shushing them and back and forth until no one could hear above the din. “You? A Librarian? Can’t see it to be honest. And if I’m being honest, I don’t see you as a sex therapist either.”

His eyebrows raised, “No? What do you see me as?” He turned his head to the side and lifted his jaw as if on display.

She considered, pondering the choices. “Rodeo Clown.”

“Ho! Wow, that’s what you see me as? Should I be insulted?”

“Not unless you want to be. Listen,” she said in an abrupt change of subject. She walked the rest of the distance to the chair Dr. Randar had vacated only a few minutes before. As she looked down she could still see the imprint his butt had made in the leather and the way he had covered the entire surface. That man really needed to lose some weight she thought as she lowered herself onto the frame. 

Tormund moved around to his side of the desk but made no move to sit. Instead, he leaned forward, placing his large hands on the edge, and supported his weight as he waited for her to continue.

She looked up at him, noticing for the first time since meeting him how green his eyes truly were as the light above washed over his hair and framed his face. It accented his fiery hair and smooth light complexion, his skin peppered with faint freckles along his cheeks and nose. 

Brienne felt her skin flush, warm tendrils of heat starting in her core and rolling up and out, reaching her chest and shoulders. She suppressed a shiver and struggled to get her thoughts back on track. How could someone disarm her so? She needed to pull herself together, dammit.

Brienne’s focus shifted up and over his shoulder to the painting beyond. Her eyes narrowed as she considered the subject, tilting her head and gently biting her tongue, a small sliver sliding a little out. Her teeth played with the flesh as she studied it.

Brienne heard a rough sound and snapped her gaze back to the man in front of her. He studied her as she contemplated her options, his eyes never leaving her face. She could just come out and advise him not to go for the position but she had never been afraid of a little competition and she wasn’t about to start now. Besides, she would be disappointed in herself and she could deal with a lot of things in her life but that wasn’t one of them.

“Mr. Giantsbane,” she began.

He held up his hand, “Please. Call me Tormund.” 

She nodded, “I came here to try and talk you out of applying for the job but I decided I’m not going to do that after all.”

“No?” She could tell he was intrigued. 

“No. In truth, I was afraid.”

“Oh? Why is that?”

She had his attention now. He sat down, scooting the chair close to the desk, and folded his hands on the top. His eyes never left hers and she couldn’t quite place the expression. Curiosity? Interest? She crossed her legs and gently placed her hands on her lap, smoothing out her skirt in the process. His eyes caught the movement and slowly traveled the length of her lower legs down to her ankle and back up again. She had never been under such scrutiny before and it unnerved her a little. She didn’t let that get to her, however.

“Yes, afraid. There is talk around the department about how you are one of the fastest rising therapists ever to be employed at this hospital. I’ve been here five years and this is the first time I’ve ever been recommended for a permanent position before.” 

He seemed genuinely surprised at her confession. “Really? Why?”

“I don’t think my department head likes me too much. In fact, I think if he had his way I don't think he'd have any women working for him. They'd be at home making supper and babies." She sighed and forced herself to maintain eye contact. Truth be told if she had her way she wouldn't be working for Mr. Tarly either but seeing as he left her alone for the most part she endured his sharp answers - that is, when she got up the nerve to ask him a question or try to get his input on a case - as well as his lack of support for any of the female therapists. His demeanor towards her was one of the main reasons she wanted out. 

His eyes widened. “Are you serious? I liked you the moment I met you.” 

“How would you know you liked me? You don’t even know me. ” She knew she didn't endear herself to most people at first meeting but she had made peace with it. 

Tormund chuckled. “Trust me, I know people and you don’t strike me as a mean or a particularly bad person. Oh, sure, not all people get along. Some personalities just don’t go well with others and that’s okay. ” 

“That what I think too. If only more people realized this the better off everyone would be.” 

He grinned. “See, we think more alike than you realize.” 

“Tormund, may I ask you a personal question?” 

He leaned in, his arm resting on top of the desk. “Of course. Fire away.”

“Do you like bars?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tormund and Brienne head to a bar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with this story for those few who are still interested. It's been a long time in between updates and for that I'm sorry. I will warn you that the next update, while not as long a wait, will still be awhile. I'm still not sure about posting this but I thought might as well since it's pretty much finished. Knowing myself, I'll still tweak it but the main writing is done.
> 
> Comments are always appreciated and Kudos are wonderful. I haven't written much and showing some love will do nothing but encourage me to get better. 
> 
> Love all of you. Hope it was worth the wait!

Tormund beamed at her, his smile taking on a devious bent. “Yes ma’am, sure do. In fact, I’m on a first name basis with most of the bouncers in this city.”

Brienne matched his grin, leaning closer to him. “Do you want to get out of here? Maybe catch a baseball game at Dumas’? I feel like getting something to eat and Dumas’ fish fry can’t be beaten. C’mon, it’ll be my treat.”

Dumas, a sports bar a few blocks from the hospital and a favorite of many staff members, had ten big screen TVs, a room with several pool tables, and one of the longest bars in the city. Tormund had not had a chance to visit since moving but jumped at the opportunity to go with such an enticing woman. Confident, strong, legs that had their own zip code..all things Tormund found alluring in the opposite sex.

Besides, Tormund and free food were a match made in heaven. If you wanted to move and offered free food as payment Tormund would be the first to volunteer. “Sounds like a plan. Do you want to take my car or yours?

“My car is fine.”

“OK, let’s go.” He rose out his seat and grabbed his keys from his upper left-hand drawer. He motioned for her to proceed him and he couldn’t help watching her butt go back and forth. Thank goodness he looked up when he did, otherwise he would be explaining to the ER doctor why he had bloodied his nose on his own door.

He stood close to her on the elevator to the parking garage, noting the light scent of Jasmine drifting off her skin. Damn, he loved that fragrance on a woman and it blended so well with her personal scent that it affected him more than he realized. He breathed gently out of his mouth as he fought to control the urges pervading his body. He hadn’t had this strong of a reaction to someone since the moment his sister had introduced him to his wife so long ago. 

The lurch of the elevator forced him out of his reverie as they reached the garage and the cab rocked gently into place. The door swished opened and they stepped out onto the cold, pitted concrete. He followed her to her car, a white late model SUV bereft of any and all insignia, with a license plate the read, “FUTRE DR”. He didn’t bother to check the model, but he did notice that everything inside the vehicle had its place and took the organization to a whole new level. Pads, pens, an assortment of clippy things decorated the center console.

Tormund excavated his car maybe once every five years if the vehicle - and his passengers - were lucky. As far as he was concerned as long as nothing was living in there and could potentially harm him he didn’t pay it much mind. He called it “character”, others called it a “death trap.”

He slid into the passenger’s seat, taking care not to knock over the stack of newspapers on the floor. 

“I take those to a local animal shelter to use in their cat cages.” Tormund heard just before the engine started and the car lurched in reverse. He made sure to buckle himself into the car, gripping the handle just above the window as Brienne exited the garage and weaved through traffic at a high rate of speed. If she went any faster he was sure she’d qualify for the Indy 500. 

Before he knew it, they had arrived at Dumas. Nondescript from the outside he would have driven right by it if he had tried to find it himself, but with Brienne Andretti at the wheel, they got there in no time.

“Yes!” He heard her yell, “The White Sox game is on. I thought we’d be too late.”

“You are a Sox fan?”

She looked over at him then. “Why? I take it you’re not then.”

“No, more of a Cubs fan myself.”

She laughed. He decided he liked her laugh, “Really? Those losers? They haven’t won a series since 1925 and the last time they were even close to sniffing up the World Series shorts was 1946. You must like hard luck cases.”

Tormund shrugged. “I like their spirit. Never giving up, always looking to the next year, always trying to improve.”

Brienne waved to the bartender as they made their way through the throngs of patrons. She didn’t bother to ask where he wanted to sit as she zeroed in on what he could only guess was her favorite table. In the corner, but still able to see everyone in the bar. It wasn’t as intimate as Tormund had hoped but it would do for now. 

Sliding her purse along the seat, Brienne sat down and scooted over to allow Tormund some room. He took advantage of her distraction to briefly touch his hip to hers as they moved. Once settled, drinks suddenly appeared out of nowhere in front of them. He looked up to see the waiter’s backside retreating from view as he melded into the crowd.

His eyes went back to the liquid gently rolling in the glass. Clear and cold, that’s all he knew. He looked over at Brienne questioningly. 

She smiled gently at him, “It’s water but if you’d like to have something stronger feel free to let Kyle know.”

“Kyle?”  
“Our waiter.”

“Oh. So, I take it you come here a lot.”

“Pretty much every day after work. As much as I love it, listening to people’s problems day in and day out takes a toll on one's own psyche. Well, you know.”

Oh, he knew all right.

Brienne looked up at the screen. It was bottom of the 5th and the Sox were losing 3-2 to the Detroit Tigers, one of their division rivals. Gods she hated the Tigers. Then again, she pretty much hated any team that went against the Sox. She briefly dated a Sox player a few years back. She had gone to a game with someone she had met online and bonded over baseball with. 

In the 9th a foul ball rocketed towards her face and with reflexes a panther would be envious of, she caught the ball in midair. People around her were clapping but her focus was on the shortstop who had locked eyes with her. She made the decision right there and then to stay after the game and see if she could meet up with him. It was a risk, she didn’t know anything about him, but after her second orgasm that night she didn’t regret it. Nothing serious ever developed between her and Mike but she had fun nonetheless. She thought of him from time to time and always fondly.

Clearing her throat, she looked back over to Tormund, “Can I ask you a personal question?”

He nodded, “Of course. What would you like to know?”

”I mentioned this back at the office but never got an answer. Why did you decide to become a therapist?”

Tormund sat back and considered his answer carefully. There were several reasons but it boiled down to one important factor. He leaned in and turned his head to look at her. 

“Because men fuck like dogs.”

She blinked, “Excuse me?”

He chuckled, deep and drawn out. “Yes. most men wouldn’t know where a woman derives pleasure from and frankly they don’t bother to ask. They get off and they’re done. It’s amazing but most men I see have no clue why they’re even there.”

“So, do they go themselves or are they brought by their significant others?”  
Tormund almost choked on the ice in his glass. “Most guys would never dream of going themselves even if they acknowledged a problem. They view seeking help as a weakness and that view is ingrained into boys at a very young age. It’s very unfortunate because their, and their loved one's lives, are affected so directly by it.”

“Yes!” Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Tormund jump as she screamed. He looked around, trying to find what she was so thrilled about. 

She slapped the table. “2-run homer! Rodriquez is my boy! Take that Tigers!” She pumped her fist at the screen and joined in with the other patrons as they clapped.. When the din subsided, her gaze once again dropped to her drink. She twirled the swizzle stick and concentrated on the vortex which appeared in the liquid. 

“You teem more dacted.” 

She turned to her companion who was staring at her, his eyebrow doing a thing, and leaned in a bit closer. 

Tormund caught the hint. “I said, you seem distracted” 

Brienne pulled back and nodded. “I hate they’re making us do this.”

Tormund became confused. “Do what?” He twisted his body in the seat until he was facing her. 

“You didn’t hear? They’re making a competition out of it. It’s part of the job selection criteria apparently.. I’m sure to amuse themselves if nothing else. We are to each take some couples and work with them, three sessions each. They will be given a scorecard, for lack of a better term, and rate us. By what benchmarks I have no idea.”

 

“That’ s odd." Tormund folded his arms on the table. 

Brienne sighed, “Yeah, but that’s the rules.” She looked over to her right and Tormund felt her hand grab his wrist. He looked down and was mesmerized by the delicate shape of her hand and especially entranced by her long fingers. He bet she could wrap those fingers around him and still have some left over and he wasn’t small by any means. He cleared his throat. Was this place getting really hot?

She looked over at him, releasing her grip once she realized what she had done. “Sorry.”

“I’m not.” He muttered under his breath. 

She pretended not to notice. “Do you fancy a game of pool?”

“Pool?”

She rolled her eyes, “Yeah, pool. You know, Billiards.”

He recognized the term. “Ah! Yes, I have been known to play from time to time.”

“Good. Kyle just let me know there is a table available. Let’s go.”

He got up and followed her, the throng of the very busy bar ebbing and flowing like some school of fish and only they knew the pattern. Tormund had no clue so he managed to piss a few patrons off when he bumped into them. There was also an added benefit as he more than once bumped into Brienne when her progression towards the pool room. This time, his front bumped into her back and if it happened one more time his growing erection would become a problem. Oh, hell, who was he kidding? It was a problem now. 

They finally squeezed their way into the billiards room, a mid-sized room with six billiards tables, two spaced side by side and about ten feet apart. Their table was the one in the back corner of the room by the vending machines. 

He followed her, noting the looks the other patrons threw their way. Brienne was so intent on claiming the table before anyone else muscled in on it she seemed to hardly notice. But Tormund did. And he didn’t like it. Not one bit. 

They got to the table, one which had seen better days. The felt had worn in some places and you could see the repairs in others. 

“Do you have some quarters on you?”

“No, I don’t”

“Wait here while I go get some.”

He watched her walk away and then he turned around to toss his jacket onto the bench and when he turned back a man was standing in front of him, causing him to jump slightly. The man was a little shorter than him, his hair slicked back with God knows what, and a lit cigarette hanging from his mouth. Tormund could tell the man had knocked one too many in the course of the evening.

“Can I help you, friend?”

“Is that the chick you’re with?”

“We’re here together if that’s what you mean.”  
“By choice? You mean you didn’t lose a bet or something?” He looked back and then focused on Tormund once more. “Holy shit, she’s fucking huge. That pussy must be dripping gold if you’re out with that one.”

Tormund closed the gap between them, his voice low when he spoke again. “That one has a name. It’s Brienne and I guarantee that she is way worth more than you and your buddies, if you have any, combined. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m done with you and your inane ramblings so if you would please do us both a favor and go back to whichever hole you seeped out of and leave me and her alone.” 

“Chill, dude. It was only a joke. Jeeze.” The guy took one more drag off his cigarette and snuffed it out in the ashtray beside Tormund’s table. Looking once more at Tormund, he huffed and left. 

Brienne was just coming back when she and the man Tormund just spoke to crossed paths. 

“Hello, ma’am. Might I say you look lovely tonight. Whoever you’re with must be one lucky man.”

Tormund couldn’t tell the man’s expression but Brienne’s eyes narrowed and she looked at him suspiciously. “Um, thank you. Is there something I can help you with?”

“No,” he responded, moving past her. “You have a nice evening.” The man turned around and he flipped Tormund off. He was gone before Brienne could notice what happened.

“What was with that guy?” She asked as she bent over to put the quarters in the slots and pushed them in to release the balls.

“Nothing. Just some random asshole who values his mouth more than the rest of his face apparently.”

“OK. I’m assuming we’re playing 8-ball or is 9-ball more your style?”

“8-ball is fine.”

“Ok, so who’s going to break first?”

“Flip you for it.” 

She pulled a quarter out of her pocket and perched it on her thumb and index finger. Tormund had this in the bag. If there was one thing he was good at it was coin flips. 

\---------- 

Tormund lost the coin flip. 

She placed the cue behind the baulk line, aimed between the first and second balls, and clean, sinking the 2 ball in the right back corner pocket. . 

“Guess I’m solids.”

She proceeded to clear the table on him. Tormund didn’t even get a chance to get up, although watching her bend over to hit certain shots while he watched her ass once again, was well worth the price of his embarrassment. Since she had broke on the first game he broke on the second and they went back and forth way until the wee hours of the evening. 

Out of the ten games they played, she won seven of them. It was almost 2 AM and on the last shot she was bent over and poised to destroy him once more. 

Brienne noticed Tormund’s expression change before she heard it. A deep baritone voice lilted through their little corner as she was about to take the game-ending shot. Tormund’s knuckles had turned white as he gripped the bench with both hands, his mouth open but no sound came forth. 

“Now there’s something I haven’t seen in quite awhile.”

She knew that voice. She knew that voice intimately. It was a voice she hadn’t heard in a very long time. 

Brienne turned around, wrapping her hand around the cue as if preparing for a confrontation. The stranger held up his hands in surrender, the corner of his mouth turning upwards in a knowing smirk.

She placed the end of the cue on the floor. Her breath was measured, four counts each, both on the inhale and on the exhale. She lifted her eyes to his and on the exhale said only one word. 

“Jaime”

_---End----

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started writing this prior to the Cubs winning The World Series so while we may know the future neither Tormund nor Brienne do. :-)


End file.
